Phobia Short Stories
by ReaLifeTomoki
Summary: There are names for everything. Even our names have names or at least, classifications of sorts. But what of our fears? What of the things that keep us up at night? Everything has a name, including the fears that all of us have. So what is your fear? What are you afraid of? Short stories?
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hey everyone! So I did this story in my Creative Writing course three days into my senior year! I am very optimistic about how much time I will have to write more chapters for this and my other fan-fiction. Though, I will say that this one will be request based. If you have a phobia that you would like to see me write a short story about, let me know in your review. I will only say this once. There will be NO REPEAT PHOBIA STORIES. This means that Acrophobia is off limits. As of right now, any other phobia is fair game. I hope you all enjoy this! Review and let me know!

DISCLAIMER: This will be the only one that I state, so please read this carefully. As I write each of these short stories, I am not aware of any fiction or fan-fiction stories out there about any of these phobias. My goal with these are to entertain my readers and not to plagiarize, offend or insult anyone that reads these. I do not know of any copyrights with any phobias or anything else that may arise within a short story. So, just in case something does come up: I DO NOT OWN THE RIGHTS. ALL RIGHTS GO TO THEIR RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

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Acrophobia - Heights

I awoke to an alarm blaring, the radio station DJ telling his listeners out there of the day that had already started. But I didn't listen. His words were lost in the vastness of my barely conscious mind. I could not comprehend anything he said as I finally shut the alarm clock off and sat up in bed. The blood rushed to my head and I felt slightly off balance as a result.

When my vision fully returned, I looked around to take in my surroundings. But where was I? And more importantly, who was I? I could not recall my name or anything of importance. My mind could only draw a blank. The only thing I knew was what I saw and what I saw was a very plain room, void of any furniture and/or furnishings. The only exceptions to this being a small wooden table with a single chair, the bed on which I had slept and the nightstand beside it that held the alarm clock. The bed and the table were in opposite corners of the room. If I were to stand up, the bed would be to my right and the table, in the furthermost, left-hand corner of the room.

Looking down, I found myself to be wearing a plain white t-shirt. Perhaps cotton? It was soft and quite warm. Throwing the covers back, I discovered that I was wearing gray sweatpants. Nothing fancy. It was then that I fully took notice of the walls. They were a simple tan or perhaps a beige. No windows could be seen in the walls, no cameras in the uppermost corners of the room and no door or doorframe could be seen. There was only a ventilation duct in the furthermost, right-hand corner of the room's ceiling.

It was just as I had swung my legs out of the bed and my feet had hit the floor, that the swishing of air could be heard. At this particular moment, I registered a couple of things. For one, the floor was cold, very cold. A tingle went up my spine, causing me to shiver and goosebumps to appear on my arms and legs. I also noticed that a door had appeared between the table and the ventilation duct. For some reason, I started to feel sick, nauseous even as I gazed upon the man standing before me with a clipboard in hand.

"Good morning Acro." the man said.

"Who are you? Where am I?" I asked, eager for answers. I had so many questions. Too many for one person to possibly answer. My name was Acro? Did I have family? If so, were they still alive? Why couldn't I remember anything? All of these questions and more raced through my head as the man replied.

"I am Doctor Phobia and you are in a clinic."

"Why am I in a clinic? Am I sick? Is it because I can't remember anything?" I continued to hound him with questions, each came out in a rush. This man who held his clipboard, writing nothing upon it, seemed to hold all of the answers to my questions. He seemed to be able to provide all of the answers to my questions.

"You are in a clinic because you are sick. Very, very sick. You cannot remember anything because of your sickness." He replied.

"What do I have?" I asked.

"Follow me and I shall explain." Doctor Phobia replied, turning around and walking down the hall.

I don't remember how many turns we took or how many doors we went through, all I remember is what the doctor said.

"Your name is Acro, you are in this clinic because you are an acrophobic. In other words, you have an irrational fear of heights. You don't remember anything because every time you realize you are high up you faint. When you awake, your memory is lost. I am your doctor today. Tomorrow, you will have another doctor and you won't remember me or anything I have told you whatsoever." He explained.

"I don't believe you." I said, just as he stopped at a window.

Looking out the window, I saw a city in daylight. The sky was its usual pale blue and there wasn't even a cloud in sight. The buildings stood tall and proud, reflecting the light of the mid-day sun, high in the sky. There were too many buildings around the one we were in to count. Perhaps the most important thing of all, I realized that the sound of the hustling and bustling of the city was in full swing far, below. And I made the mistake of looking down. Before I knew it, the world around me seemed to be falling and growing darker quickly. I only had enough time to realize that Doctor Phobia had been telling me the truth. Not long after that realization, my world became dark and once again, I knew nothing.

 **Line Break**

I awoke to the sound of a blaring alarm…

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A/N: Let me know what you think people! Also, if you haven't already, check out my other fan-fiction! Review!


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: This short story was requested by: Sorry-Idon'tHave-a-Username. Please leave a review, request your phobia choice and review! And please be aware that I will only choose the first one I see for this chapter.

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Clinophobia - Fear of Going to Bed

I sat, wide awake in the starch-white room before me, in a velvet-red chair. I was staring at a wall and, looking around, I could not see a single window or door leading out of this room I found myself in. I did however, see a single bed with velvety-red looking sheets and pillows. It looked so inviting, but that was not important to me now. What was important was the undeniable fact that I had no inkling of when or how I had gotten here. I only knew that I was tired. So, so tired and staying conscious only grew harder and harder by the second.

I was fighting myself, my own body and brain to stay awake. I could feel myself beginning to nod and suddenly, I felt an overwhelming sense of fear, as if someone had pulled a gun to my face. Yet, there was no one before me, not a sound in the room. The only thing I heard was a deafening silence that I could only compare to the sound of a wave crashing overhead. Gripping the arms of the chair I sat in, I increasingly struggled to not fall into that unconsciousness that awaited me with a sickening smile.

Why did I feel fear? Why could I not fall asleep when my mind and body so clearly wanted to? I was so lost in thought thinking of these questions, trying to come up with answers that I had completely missed the fact that a television had just been lowered from a freshly opened wound in the ceiling. Looking up at the wound, I only saw blood slowly leaking from the ceiling and I screamed. I screamed and writhed around in the chair, unable to move and unsure as to why I was screaming. As I screamed for life, I looked down and found restraints upon my arms, connected me to the arms of the chair. They were black in color and appeared to be made of leather, neither of them were there before.

But none of that mattered to me.

What mattered to me was the fact that I had mysteriously been tied up and I could not escape the oncoming flow of blood from the ceiling. And as I screamed, the television came on. Within the confines of its screen, I saw people dying in their sleep. Killed by chainsaw wielding clowns and machete wielding monkeys. I saw those who had fallen asleep, drown in a river of blood, still unconscious and unmoving. The images were constantly of people dying in their sleep.

I tried to close my eyes desperately, unwilling to see the images I was now being forced to watch. I could not see them, but it felt as if there were an invisible set of hands holding my eyes open, unwilling to let me blink. At first, it was excruciatingly painful, being unable to blink. The fresh cool air hitting my eyes unrelentingly and mercilessly. Eventually, the pain seemed to lessen ever so slightly and I was left to stare at the television.

It seemed like an endless eternity as I sat in that chair, body slack and mind blank, as I watched clowns and people alike kill each other. Some were disemboweled and others beheaded. But all had one thing in common. They were all left to bleed out and I was forced to watch. By this point, the ceiling's wound, still bleeding, had created a shallow pool of blood around my ankles.

I disregarded this fact and continued to watch because no matter how much I fought before this point, I was indisputably hooked on what I had been forced to watch for so long. Now, looking back at the screen, I saw a baby doll slowly come to life. The doll, slowly but surely began to move, towards the kitchen. Then, getting to the knives, the baby doll grabbed one and made its way to the bedroom.

Surprisingly, within moments, cries of pain and agony could be heard all around me.

"Interesting isn't it?" mused an unseen voice,

"What do you want with me?!" I cried, sick of watching those sick and twisted things.

There was hysterical laughter all around me. "What do I want with you?!"

A soft chuckle this time before the voice continued. "I want nothing to do with you young child. I only wish to help."

"How is this helping me?!" I screamed, writhing around in the chair, desperately trying to escape my confines.

"I am showing you movie scenes. I am trying to show you that none of it is real." The voice explained, soothingly.

"It's all real!" I screamed at the voice. "All of it is real! You can't fake this amount of blood!"

The blood, stilling spilling into the room, was up to the bottom of my knees by now. It was still warm, as if every ounce of it was from a fresh body. Was I inside of someone's body? There was so much of it. There was no way that this was from multiple people and still this warm. As if reading my mind, the voice spoke again.

"You are not inside someone's body. You're in your own mind."

"How can I be in my own mind?!" I screamed, jolting and kicking about, trying to escape from the restraints.

I believe that it was the kicking that caused the chair to tip over. The events before my eyes seemed to slow down dramatically before my very eyes, to snail's pace. My world, as slow as it was moving, was about to end. It seemed like forever, but it did not take very long for blood to reach the farthest corners of my vision. It was at that moment, that I felt the chair hit the every growing pool of blood and not long after, my head hit the headrest area of the chair. After that, it all sped up and the next thing I knew, I was drowning in a room full of blood.

That was when I felt the restraints on my arms release.

In moments, I was trying my best to move around to gain my footing, but it was hard. Especially when my lungs were screaming in agony for air, doing everything they could to make sure they were heard. Just as my lungs were about to give out and I lost hope, my feet found the ground and my head broke the surface. The blood was to my chin now, but I did not care for that. What I cared for, was the air that I was so greedily taking into my starved lungs.

"You see? You cannot die in your own mind." The voice spoke again.

"Shut up!" I yelled at the voice. This person was seriously aggravating. "You haven't been helpful whatsoever since you said your first word!"

"On the contrary, if you would heed my words and listen, you would already be out of this little world you find so terrifying. Let go of your fear of the bed. The movie scenes are fake, they never happened." The voice said, condescendingly.

I looked at the bed again, which was somehow floating on the surface of the blood that was now to the bottom of my nose if I looked forward. However, I kept my chin above the blood. I really didn't want to trust the voice and my gut feeling was screaming at me to not trust the voice. But, I found myself slowly inching towards the bed and about halfway through the journey, that inching became treading blood.

"That's right. Get on the bed and escape the tormenting confines of your mind fueled by your fears of going to bed. Go to bed." The voice said demandingly.

"I'm not scared of going to bed!" I exclaimed indignantly.

"Prove me wrong then and go to bed." The voice said in matter-of-fact tone.

Now that I was next to the bed, my hand resting on it to stay afloat, I felt an even greater tinge of fear than I did earlier.

"Look at that, you're trembling, are you sure you are no scared of going to bed?" the voice asked me mockingly.

"I am not!" I exclaimed.

"Then prove it! Get on the fucking bed and prove me wrong!" the voice screamed at me angrily.

The voice's angry scream was enough to jolt me in the right direction. Slowly and shakily, I climbed up onto the bed and sat down. The blood had reached the bottom of the television that hung from the ceiling. I was running out of time to do this. As I sat in the bed, I could not help but feel an immense amount of fear. That fear was what slowed my head's descent onto the pillow. I felt that if I did, I would die next or the world would suddenly end and I would be left all alone in the ever expanding darkness of the void.

My head hit the pillow. Nothing happened.

"You see!?" The voice exclaimed. "There was noth-"

Suddenly, the sound of the pouring blood stopped and the room was silent again. However, from the other side of the ceiling I was left to face, I heard a loud noise. I could not place my finger on it, but the noise sounded inexplicably familiar. Only when I realized what the sound was from exactly, did anything happen next.

The ceiling opened, just as it had previously, pouring blood once again and this time, there above me, was a clown with a chainsaw. The clown's smile was maddening, it was full of evil intent. The last thing I heard was the clown's malicious laughter and the sound of that chainsaw cutting into my flesh. I'm not even sure if I had time to let out a scream of fear and pain.

 **Line Break**

I jolted awake, sitting up in my bed with enough speed to rival a cheetah in speed.

"I told you that you were in your own mind. You were dreaming." Said the voice...

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A/N: I hope that you all enjoyed this latest installment of phobia related short stories! Tune in next time for another request from a new reader! Review and let me know what you all think.


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